Once you've noticed
by OneMadBanana
Summary: Blood spills, time drags, silence falls. And in the aftermath, thoughts are heard and words are spoken, and there's no turning back. POVs from the main characters on the events of chapters 116 through 123.
1. Damned

Spoilers for chapters 116-123.

Word count: 1,386

Just an introspective on Dômeki and what he may or may not have been thinking throughout the arc.

* * *

_**"WATANUKI!"**_

…

_Watanuki._

_Glass._

_Blood._

_Watanuki's blood._

_**WATANUKI!**_

Dômeki acted instinctively, without thought. In one heartbeat, he was beside Watanuki, positioning himself between the fallen boy and the curious onlookers. In another, his phone was in his hand, but before he had punched a single button it rang - too shrilly, too loudly. Dômeki answered automatically; his eyes didn't even register the number that flashed across the screen, so focused were they on Watanuki's face. The pallor – he'd only seen such utter lack of color on corpses.

_NOT DEAD._

"Bring him to the shop." Dômeki wasn't surprised to hear Yūko's voice.

"Can you help him?" His calmness was impressive.

"There will be a price." He hadn't expected, however, to hear… pity? Regret?

_No time for questions._

"I'll pay it."

"You alone cannot."

"I'll go too." Kunogi was kneeling at Watanuki's side, opposite Dômeki. Without missing a beat – he knew why she was there _and shouldn't I have been with them in the first place?_ - he said to both women, "we'll be there."

Shoving the phone back into his schoolbag, he glared at Watanuki's prone form. He couldn't carry the boy without causing more damage, but there was no other option. There was no one else he'd trust with this _no way in hell_.

He lifted Watanuki gingerly, cradling him against his body with Watanuki's chest _still beating_ pressing against his own, Watanuki's head resting on his shoulder. He hoped the boy would remain unconscious; he wouldn't want Watanuki waking and seeing his completely undignified position _and who knows how he'd react if he knew I was grabbing his ass_.

His brain hysterical, his outwardly demeanor calm, Dômeki left the schoolyard hastily, but taking care not to further agitate his precious cargo; Kunogi walked beside him, silent. Up one street, down another, a left here _why was the blasted place so far from the school?_, past the temple _bow's no use now_ – they were at the fence he'd seen once before. Now, there was a building in what had been an empty plot of land. He charged forward; although he vaguely remembered Yūko once telling him that he couldn't enter the shop, right now there was no stopping him.

---

Perhaps most frightening was Yūko herself. He had never before seen this impassive woman so intense, so concerned. So human. He had never before been so prepared to trust her.

He paid his price unflinchingly, without thinking; Kunogi too acted without hesitation. The two of them waited in the hall, Kunogi pacing back and forth, Dômeki bracing himself against the wall _can't pass out, not now_. The minutes trudged into an hour, then two, then three. Then, the door opened, Yūko emerged, and Kunogi entered.

"The worst has passed; he'll only need rest." Yūko peered into Dômeki's face, but he could not meet her eyes. Whatever she didn't see, however, made Yūko smile; he didn't try reading it. The two silently listened to Kunogi and Watanuki's conversation _he sounds so weak_. They listened to Kunogi's attempt at good-bye, they heard Watanuki's promise. When Kunogi returned to the hall, Yūko re-entered the room, and Kunogi shut the door after her.

They looked at one another. All they had in common was the boy in the other room. Dômeki tolerated her presence because she made Watanuki happy; Kunogi invited him on dates because she couldn't see Watanuki safely otherwise. And yet there were no accusations in Dômeki's eyes, nor did Kunogi apologize for being too selfish to cut ties with Watanuki. Dômeki could not begrudge Kunogi's ability to make Watanuki happy; Kunogi could not resent Dômeki's ability to keep Watanuki safe. Kunogi left; Dômeki stayed.

"Dômeki's price was the same amount of blood you lost." Yūko spoke to Watanuki, but looked at the boy in question. Again, Dômeki could not meet her eyes. He was still having trouble accepting that she'd been utterly necessary to Watanuki's survival, that he alone wasn't strong enough to save the boy _that I have to share_. Besides, his head was spinning from lack of blood and strange new thoughts; he was damned but the witch could tell.

Yūko smiled at her unwilling customer and left him sitting outside the room.

He did not rise until he could be sure that Watanuki had fallen asleep, and not unconscious. Only then did he make his way out of the shop and to his family's temple. Only then did he finally begin thinking.

---

When Watanuki finally returned to school several days later, he very curtly informed Dômeki that he was invited to tea that afternoon – though "commanded" was probably a better choice of words. Dômeki said nothing, inviting upon himself a violent tirade; amused, Dômeki let the shrieks wash over him. Music to his ears.

After school, the two boys walked side by side to Yūko's shop _and I am not going to remember how I was holding Watanuki the last time we made this trip_. Dômeki would not have admitted it out loud, but as they made their way up one street and down another, as they turned left and passed the temple, he kept sneaking glances at the shorter boy from the corner of his eye. Watanuki was strangely quiet as the two walked, but Dômeki didn't question the other boy, as he was busy with his own thoughts _and damn my memory_.

Relieved as he had been to see Watanuki acting normally – fancy lunches, loud rants – Dômeki couldn't help wishing for something… something. He watched Watanuki present a bird to Kunogi; he watched Watanuki smile when the girl worried; he watched Watanuki glow from Kunogi's thanks. He'd never been jealous of the attention the girl received from Watanuki _nor am I jealous now, _but he couldn't help wishing that he too had been allowed to see Watanuki in his room; wishing that he could have sat beside the boy, not in the hall. He couldn't help but wishing that he'd been able to voice his own concern, and that he'd received reassurance. Lunch couldn't really compare to a specially hatched bird - today's bento had tasted rather bitter _and that had absolutely nothing to do with being jealous because I'm not_.

These thoughts, along with the glances he stole, occupied most of Dômeki's attention along the way. He was approaching the fence for the third time now, and he paid attention to his surroundings on this visit. He noticed the other people strolling along the street and how their eyes simply passed over the shop. He gazed at the magnificent building and thought that he had been happier when he too had seen nothing but empty space. He wondered what it meant, being Yūko's customer; he could imagine people growing dependent on the strength of their wishes, and their ability to pay the price, and he swore he'd never become a repeat customer.

He glanced to his left once more; this time, however, Watanuki was looking back. To cover his confusion _stupid heartbeat_, Dômeki asked, "So why'd you bring me here?"

Presto.

"Because Yūko told me to!" Watanuki stomped ahead. "I didn't want to!"

As if he'd even hoped.

"You're too loud," he muttered, unable to stop himself. He immediately plugged his ears for the onslaught that was sure to come _and when did this become a reflex?_ but when Watanuki stayed silent, he stared, surprised, at the back of the boy's head. Watanuki never passed up an opportunity to scold Dômeki for his failings; what stopped him now?

"You… it's not a problem for you, is it? The blood. It was quite a lot, wasn't it? Are you alright?"

_Did I hear that correctly?_

"Yeah."

"… Thank you."

_What?_

Unable to believe his own ears, Dômeki leaned forward, staring quizzically into Watanuki's face, searching for confirmation. Watanuki squealed and shoved Dômeki away, covering his face with his arm. But he could see Watanuki blushing behind his fingers, and through the ranting and raving he could finally hear the false denials and underlying concern.

_"Are you alright?"_

_"… Thank you."_

He'd nearly died several times for much less, but he couldn't help wishing that Watanuki hadn't hidden his face. However, there was always next time. Next time, he'd be prepared.

He wondered what Watanuki was going to make to eat.

* * *

A/N:

1. I ended up having a lot of fun with this one. I re-read the relevant chapters at around 8:30pm or so, got the skeletons for each POV jotted down, then tackled Dômeki , since his POV has been floating around in my brain for a little while now. Wrapped up the final edits about 20 minutes ago.  
I think I enjoyed writing this because we so rarely get to see what Dômeki thinks. At first, I thought that my characterization was a little OOC, but I figure - do we really know? No, we don't, and who's to say that he isn't thinking along these lines? So that was the fun of it - putting thoughts into Dômeki 's head.

2. Ha, it ended up much longer than I'd originally thought, and the subject ended up changing slightly. I hadn't originally intended to write for the entire arc, but that's what happened. Brainstorming this one spawned ideas for POVs from the other main characters - Watanuki, Yūko, Himawari - so expect two or three more parts; I'm not entirely positive I could write Yūko, but I'll probably take a stab at it. Watanuki's POV will most likely be next.

3. I beta-ed this entirely on my own; if you have any constructive criticism to give, or if you notice any grammatical errors, please comment! Thanks for reading!


	2. Blind

Watanuki's POV.

Same spoilers apply!

* * *

He hadn't even asked to see you.

You weren't sure why that was bothering you so much – really, it was rather absurd - but there it was. At the time, you hadn't noticed; you were too busy recovering, and you'd spent a good deal of the first couple of days sleeping. You eventually realized, however, that of the central party, he'd been the only one you hadn't seen throughout your entire convalescence, and _his_ involvement still rankled on your nerves.

You'd seen Himawari-chan. You'd been slowly coming to terms with all the warnings you'd received, so it hadn't been too surprising when she'd revealed everything. You'd hurt for her; you'd hated the thought of her bearing that kind of pain alone. Like you, she'd hurt so much in the past. You knew you'd do anything to make sure she didn't have to be alone any longer.

That was easy to understand. You liked Himawari-chan, you didn't blame her for something that was out of her control, and you cared enough for her to reject her attempt to cut herself out of your life. You told her, "I'm happy to have met you" and you meant it. You liked Himawari-chan, and because of that, you wanted to see her smile – plain and simple. You didn't like that she'd had to pay something to help save your life, but she'd made that choice because she cared for you, so you simply accepted it.

But _he_ didn't even like you! And this wasn't the first time that guy had intervened for you, either. It had bothered you every time, because it made no sense! This time, however, it had gone even beyond shooting down nasty spirits, it had required more than a precise shot. It had resulted in more than just an injured arm. He'd willingly spilled more blood than you cared to think about. All for _your_ sake.

Why? It's not like you like each other or something; it's a well-established fact that you two are rivals.

But you haven't forgotten Haruka-san's appearance, or your parents' words. You hadn't had time to deliberate on them during that meeting, hadn't thought of them when you first regained consciousness. But once you'd managed to stay awake for more than two or three hours, the events that had passed during the "dream of hell," as Yūko had put it, had resurfaced and… well. They'd apologized, said you couldn't be with them. They'd kept on apologizing, like it was their fault you'd been lonely. But then… _someone who will be waiting for you_. You'd first supposed that they could have meant anyone, but then you remembered just who had pulled you back, just who had stopped you from following your parents. You remembered - _it's a good thing I look like Shizuka_. You still couldn't figure out why that mattered, and the answers danced, frustratingly, just out of reach.

Yet the bastard hadn't even asked to see you. He hadn't given you a chance to yell at him, to tell him that you hadn't asked him to do anything. He'd probably just gone home, with _that expression_ on his face, as if he'd done nothing. As if it hadn't mattered that he had risked his own life just to save his rival's.

And then today… just thinking about it made your eyes twitch. _Himawari-chan_ had been wonderful, of course; that was to be expected of so good a person. She'd been glad to see you, had even waited for you on the way to school – but she'd been with that no good loser, who couldn't even fake concern. _Himawari-chan_ had been genuinely pleased with the bird - which he hadn't _given birth to_, thanks you _so_ very much - unlike some stone-faced idiot not worth mentioning, who'd walked with you to school but had said hardly a word. Who had eaten lunch as if nothing had changed. The bastard hadn't even reacted when you'd informed him of Yūko's summons-_invitation_ to tea.

Jerk.

And now, here you were, walking with your _rival_ in dead silence. Not like you _cared_. He wasn't worthy of your brilliant conversational skills, anyway; why bother with false pretences? He'll only aggravate you, like always, with his "too cool" manner. With his expressionless face. With his constant presence. With his bow… that's saved your life… too many times.

Damn. You were back to this distinctly uncomfortable train of thought and no closer to figuring it out. Why give so much blood for someone you don't like? Why eat lunch with that person every day? Why go on stupid missions with him, knowing all the dangers? Everyone knows that you never ask him to do any of these things; heaven only knows why he _does_, and with such persistence.

It doesn't compare with someone like Himawari-chan. You never yell at her, you never make threats, you gladly make a lunch to share. The two of you are friends. She was sorry to affect you with her bad luck, and she liked you enough to try saying good-bye. And in return, you promised you wouldn't die, you apologized for scaring her, and you even gave her a most special bird. That's what friends do, right? A friend doesn't annoy you, doesn't demand fancy meals. A friend doesn't… doesn't save your life, just to save you. Constantly. While asking for nothing in return…

Right?

You get the feeling that you might have missed something somewhere along the line, but before you could follow that thought you realize that the two of you had reached the shop. You moved forward to open the gate – and the implications hit you harder that Ame Warashi's umbrella. Yūko had invited him to the shop. He could see it because he'd entered it, despite what Yūko had once said. He'd become a customer when he could see no other way to… save you. That had been his wish, and he'd paid his price in blood.

You don't know what to say. Should you welcome him? No, that'd be ludicrous. You look to your right, taking a glance at the boy beside you for the first time – and he's looking right back at you, with an unreadable (but not blank) expression.

Before you can think of anything to say, he finally asks why he's been brought here. You latch onto that like a lifeline.

"Because Yūko told me to!" You stomp ahead. "I didn't want to!" _At the time_. Stomp.

He mutters something, but you miss it. You're too busy warring with yourself – your pride demands that you punish him for questioning your motives, but the part of you that your pride is trying very desperately to shake sensible knows that there's something else to be said. In the sudden stillness that has fallen you manage, without turning around, "you… it's not a problem for you, is it? The blood. It was quite a lot, wasn't it? Are you alright?"

Ugh. That didn't come out quite right.

"Yeah." What a cold answer! Your pride sobs, demeaned. It makes the next part hard, but there's no turning back once you've noticed. It's the least he deserves.

"… Thank you."

It's the best you can do, and you stand still, nervous. You don't know how he'll react – so you're appalled when he invades your personal space and takes too close a look. You immediately cover your face and push him away, a little ashamed that he's so disbelieving, but you're even more horrified to discover how hot your face feels, as though you've got a(nother) fever. You can only imagine how red you are, and try to block his view.

You mentally thank the gods a moment later, when the pipe fox-spirit bowls you to the ground. You'd like to stop thinking right _now_, thank you!

* * *

A/N: 

Again, I tried to make this as in-character as possible. Second person just seemed right, though my tenses could shift. It's meant to be present-tense as they walk to the shop,; everything else should be in past-tense.

My goal was for Watanuki to somehow realize that he's been incredibly blind up to this point, without the "OMG EUREKA!" method. I still think it's a bit rushed. :P

This ending scene isn't meant to turn their rough relationship into roses, but I think it's a crucial turning point for all of the characters involved. Muahaha, maybe that's what I'll title this damn thing. Or, you know. Something equally cheesy.


End file.
